


The Notebook

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27424411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Mrs. McKagan had always told her son not to sneak around and poke his nose into other's peoples' businesses.Too bad that Duff never had listened to his mother.
Relationships: Duff McKagan/Slash
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	The Notebook

Mrs. McKagan had always told her son not to sneak around and poke his nose into other's peoples' businesses. 

Too bad that Duff never had listened to his mother. 

Which was the reason that Duff was in this mess in the first place, really. 

Sneaking around and poking his nose into his roommate's business was not a pass time that Duff engaged in regularly, but he was bored, and there wasn't much that could be said about the television, because there was nothing of interest on, so Duff entertained himself by looking through his roommate's belongings. 

It wasn't as if Slash minded - in fact, he regularly rooted through Duff's room to steal his things, a fact that quickly became evident shortly after they moved in together. 

But, to Duff's knowledge, (which was admittedly limited), Slash had never found anything so incriminating. 

Nor so utterly terrifying. 

Duff felt like he could barely breathe as he sat on Slash's bed and looked through a notebook full of words that held so much impact with such little meaning. A small part of Duff just wanted to toss the notebook aside, leave the room, and pretend that he'd never seen such a thing. A notebook full of confessions of love, you say? Never heard of it! 

Never, ever, in Duff's life had he read such terrifying words. 

Slash had spent months, presumably, writing like a teenager girl about a crush that would never see advancement. He had written about the color of Duff's eyes with loving detail, had written about Duff's voice and favorite foods, about how there was something (with emphasis) about Duff that had made Slash's insides go, and quote, 'tingly.' 

For a moment, Duff could almost have fooled himself into thinking that it was just some elaborate prank with no basis in reality. 

But it was just too...real. 

"Hey, Duff!" Slash's voice rang out as the sound of the door shutting sounded throughout the apartment. "I've been calling you all day, but you - oh." 

Duff hadn't been fast enough to cover his tracks, and before the realization of his roommate having returned home could've set in, Slash was in the threshold of the room, and the little of his face that was visible had turned suddenly, frighteningly pale. 

The atmosphere was suddenly tense, awkward, and completely terrified. 

It was like somebody had drained all of the blood from Slash's face and left him there to experience the aftershocks. 

Unsure what to say, nor about what to do, Duff slowly set aside the notebook, and placed it onto Slash's pillow. 

A few moments of silence passed by slowly, and the room suddenly felt very, very cold. 

"I'm sorry for snooping." Duff said, breaking the silence, and standing up so that he could leave the room. Before Slash could say anything, Duff slipped past him and walked into the living room. 

Duff couldn't face _this,_ and so he slipped on his shoes and grabbed his jacket. 

"No - no, please!" Slash said, sounding terrified, but Duff couldn't stay there, not when he had just read all of those intimate thoughts. 

Opening the door, Duff quickly shut it behind him as he walked down the hallway and stepped into the elevator, pressing the button that would take him to the first floor so hard that his finger ached. 

It was all too much, too soon. 

Duff had dated several woman and men in his life, but he didn't give a single damn about any of them. Call it cruel, but Duff didn't like getting so emotionally invested into a relationship. 

When his feelings had started to develops for Slash, it had just seemed best to just ignore them. And Duff had been doing a pretty good job of doing that, up until he saw those words, and read those thoughts, and realized that Slash not only felt the same, but he wanted a relationship. 

And not just a few quickies, either - Slash wanted love and devotion and all of that sappy shit. He wanted Duff in a way that seemed frightening and foreign, but it was real. 

Duff knew because of how those words had sounded in his head, concessions that sounded so, so sweet. 

They had known each other for three years, and yet, they'd both managed to keep their feelings under wraps. Duff tried his best to pretend that they didn't exist, while Slash wrote about them with earnest sincerity. 

As Duff sat down on a bench, listening to the sound of laughter, and watching as kids ran around and played without a care in the world, he tried to get his heart to stop pounding so fast. 

Slash was handsome and sweet and intelligent. He liked action movies and could play poker like nobody's business. There was nobody quite like Slash, and that was a known fact. Duff loved him, and wanted for nothing more than to take the younger man in his arms and kiss him senseless and make him feel loved like there was no tomorrow. 

But ever since Duff had watched his parents get divorced after years of arguing and fighting, there had been a fear, small and certain, that the same would happen for him. 

For all of his life, Duff had naturally assumed that love would always end in heartbreak. 

' _But is that the truth?'_ Duff wondered, looking up at the darkening sky. 

He didn't know anymore. 

Because Slash spoke of deep love, and his determination to be _something_ to Duff, romantic or platonic, was clear. 

Duff jumped as his phone rang loudly, and he scrambled to pull it out of his jacket pocket, sailing it open and accepting the call once he saw who it was from. 

"He-" Duff didn't even manage to get that simple greeting out. 

Axl was, to be short and honest, a fucking demon when he was angry. "Are you kidding me, you asshole?" He yelled, sharp and fiery, the mere twist of his words suggesting that, on the other end of the phone, Axl was pacing and trying to resist the urge to reach through the phone and snap Duff's neck like a chicken. 

Startled by the anger, Duff frowned. "What's wrong?" He asked, knowing that staying calm was the best way to combat Axl and his rather fantastic rage. 

"What's wrong? _What's wrong?_ Jesus Christ, are you on drugs? You better be, because that's the only way that I can see you acting this dumb without me tossing you off a goddamn bridge." From Axl's side of the phone, a scuffle seemed to be happening. 

Duff stayed silent as Axl began yelling at somebody else. 

"Let me handle this!" Axl managed to yell out. "He deserves to hear what I-" His sentence was cut off. 

A moment passed by without another word, yelling or whispered or otherwise. It was still a wonder why Axl, who usually had a reason to get angry, was on one of his raging episodes. Duff deemed it safe enough to speak about another moment without further incident. "Axl?" He said. 

The sound of somebody talking could be heard, but the words weren't audible in any way. 

"Duff? Are you there?" Izzy asked. 

Sighing, Duff rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yeah. What the fuck is going on over there? Why is Axl so angry?" 

"Oh." Izzy said shortly. "You don't know." 

Duff stood up and began walking, away from the park and back onto the sidewalk, needing some sort of movement to distract himself. "No, I don't know what's going on. Axl just called me and started yelling, calling me an asshole and all that." He stuffed his free hand into his pocket as a chill swept through the air. 

"That's interesting." Izzy sounded like he was closing doors behind him, as if to not be overheard. "I'm not gonna beat 'round the bush here, Duff. I don't have time for that and, honestly, neither do you. I called Slash and he didn't answer, so I went over there and he was in fucking _hysterics."_

The words felt like ice cold water being poured all over Duff, drenching him in bitterly freezing terror and worry. He paused in the middle of the sidewalk, his mouth dry, eyes wide in that realization. ' _I fucking left him.'_ He thought, feeling sick at the thought. 

"What?" Duff said, feeling his heart resume its pitter-patter against his chest. 

Izzy hummed. "After like twenty minutes, I managed to get some sort of answer out of him about it and he just - God, Duff, were you that panicked?" He sounded halfway between concerned and angry. 

Duff was just glad that he wasn't yelling. "It was just so scary." He mumbled weakly. 

"Well, yeah, but you just straight up left him." Izzy sighed, obviously irritated. 

"I know. I know - _fuck."_ Duff didn't know what to do. He hadn't thought about what just leaving would do Slash, he had just needed those fragile moments alone with his thought. But then Duff glanced at his watch, and realized that it'd been an hour since he'd left. 

The time had passed so quickly that it had only seemed like a few minutes. 

No wonder Slash had been so panicked. 

Duff felt his worry morph into guilt. "I'm coming back." He said, his walk turning into a jog, now rushing to get back to the apartment. 

"Yeah." Izzy said. 

It took only three minutes for Duff to get back into the building, and it took two more to run up the stairs because the elevator was being used. Duff could feel his heart leaping in his chest, and couldn't find his breathe, but knew that it wasn't because he was running. 

He shouldn't have left. 

No matter how terrified Duff had been by the concessions written in that notebook, he shouldn't have left. There was a thin line between fear and cowardice, and Duff knew that he'd crossed it. 

Pulling out his keys, Duff unlocked the door and stepped inside of the apartment.

Immediately, it became evident how bad the situation was. 

"Oh, calm down." Izzy said from the kitchen. 

A scoff sounded in response. "How am I supposed to stay calm? Who knows if he's even gonna come back, Izzy?" Axl replied. "What are we supposed to tell Slash? It'll ruin him! You know how invested he gets, and you also know how upset he gets. If I ever see Duff again, Iz, I'm telling you, I'll - 

The good thing was that Axl sounded significantly calmer than earlier, but there was an edge to his voice that suggested that he was holding onto the rope, and it was fraying. 

Izzy walked out of the kitchen, dressed in one of his flashy hippie shirts that offset the darkness of his hair. His face was pale and drawn, but his eyes were full of life. He narrowed his eyes briefly at Duff, and then nodded his head toward the hallway. "Slash ain't in earshot." He said. 

Duff nodded. "Yeah." He shut the door and locked it, feeling the tension, which had risen impressively from earlier, and was now so thick that it was hard to breathe. 

"Is he here?!" Axl rounded the corner and stared down the blonde, his lips twisted in a fierce snarl. 

Ever calm, Izzy grabbed the redhead by his shoulder. 

It was clear how much the tension was affecting all three of them, in the way that they held themselves and in how thick the air was. Izzy was frowning deeply, which seemed to age him years. Axl looked very close to lunging like a demonic cat.

And Duff could feel his anxiety rise up and threaten to overflow. 

"I wouldn't go talk to him just yet." Izzy said quietly. 

"Yeah." Axl said. "Because I gotta-" Whatever threat he'd been about to utter was cut off because Izzy smacked his hand over the redhead's mouth, muffling what sounded like a threat involving skinning and castration. 

Duff would've found it amusing, if not for how serious Axl looked. 

Slowly, he moved toward the couch, and sat down heavily, finding his legs to be quite weak in the face of the recent events. Duff sighed, and buried his face within his hands, perhaps to hide from the stares of his friends. "I was just so scared." He admitted, feeling his anxiety as it seemed to seep from his very mind and infect the rest of his body. 

"Of what?" Izzy prompted. 

"Of heartbreak." Duff felt his eyes burn in the incoming threat of tears. "I don't want to end up like my parents. I don't want to end up sad and alone because of somebody that I grew to love." He looked up at Izzy, and then at Axl. "I don't want to end up hurting Slash, either." 

Axl seemed to understand, or at least sympathetic with the plight, because he managed to disentangle himself from Izzy and walk over, sitting beside Duff and wrapping his arm around the blonde's shoulders in an attempt at comfort that was vastly different from his usual personality. "Listen, man." Axl said, no longer angry, but instead - calm. "It's okay to be scared, but you can't let it control your whole life, because when it does, then there's no real joy, just fear. Everybody is afraid of love to some degree, even me." 

From across the room, Izzy stifled a laugh. 

"You're handsome and kind and can have anybody you want." Axl continued. "I know that you can do this, Duff. But you have to take a deep breathe and think about it, because jumping into this, and then backing out later, will only hurt Slash, and that's what you don't wanna do, right?" Axl smiled. "Slash's parents divorced, too, though he was much younger when it happened. I'm sure he'll understand. But, listen, you're strong. You can do whatever you want to do." 

Duff thought about it for a moment, his mind racing with millions of possibilities and fears. 

As much as Duff absolutely loathed to admit it, Axl was right for the first time in what seemed like forever. He couldn't hide from love anymore, and he needed to face this whole thing head-on. 

That notebook had only solidified what Duff had been secretly hoping for since they'd first met so many years ago at that party. 

Taking a deep, reassuring breathe, Duff looked over at the placid eyes of Axl, hoping that whatever emotions could be communicated throughout a few fragile moments of their eyes meeting. 

"I don't want to be afraid anymore." Duff said. "I don't want to let it dictate my life."

All of a sudden, elsewhere in the apartment, one of the doors opened, and a certain blonde appeared, looking uncertain for the first time in what may have been forever. Steven looked mildly surprised to see Duff. "Oh, hey, man." He greeted. And then he turned to Izzy. "He's trying to leave. The only reason that he's not out the door yet is because the suitcase is bigger than he is."

Duff's heart lurched unpleasantly in his chest. "Shit." He muttered, jogging out of the living room and down the hall. 

The door to Slash's room was open, and the younger man was standing near his bed, trying, and failing, to drag his suitcase. But it was too heavy and Slash looked like a terrified mess and, god, Duff hated it. 

Far from messy, the room looked downright chaotic. And the notebook's pages had been torn out, crumbled, and tossed down around the floor. 

"Slash?" Duff said quietly, loathing to scare him. 

Startled by the sudden voice, Slash whirled around, fast enough that Duff could see the terror in his dark eyes. "I'm sorry." Slash said breathlessly. "I'm so sorry. I was going to be out before you came back but Izzy came over and then the other two and - I'm gonna go, okay? I'm sorry." He tugged hard on his suitcase, and it fell of the bed with a thump. 

"No, no." Duff hurried over, hands outstretched. He grabbed the suitcase and placed it back on the bed. "Don't be sorry, and please, _please,_ don't leave. I don't want you to leave." Duff grabbed Slash by his thin shoulders to keep him in place and prevent him from just leaving. 

Slash looked confused, but didn't reply, only allowed himself to be steered down onto the bed. Duff crouched by his feet, even though the position didn't agree well with his height. "I'm sorry, Slash. I didn't think when I walked out on you. It was just my fight-or-flight response, y'know? I got scared." Duff felt embarassed, but forced himself to look into Slash's eyes. 

"Of what?" Slash whispered quietly. 

Duff signed. "I don't want to know heartbreak. I don't want for us to be happy and then everything falls apart. I'm so scared of ending up like my parents." He finally looked down, and grabbed Slash's hands, enclosing them within his own. "But what's the point of living, without experiencing? I want to know you, Slash, in so many ways. I want to have a life with you. In a way, I guess, I was terrified because I love you, Slash, just as much as you love me. But instead of staying and talking it out, I left, and I can't go back and change that decision. But I wish I hadn't." 

"I love you, so much. But I was scared and didn't know what to do with those feelings. That was unfair to you, and I hope you know how much I regret it. But I also hope you know how much I want to have something with you. A friendship or relationship of whatever." Duff smiled to the best of his ability. "What do you think?"

Slash had his head tilted down, silent. His hands felt cold in Duff's grip, and so the blonde squeezed them, feeling the fragile bones underneath. "I -" Slash broke off, licking his lips, uncertain. 

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Duff said. "Do you want me to leave?" 

"No!" Slash suddenly half-lunged forward, falling to his knees, arms wrapping around Duff's neck in a desperate hug that seemed almost like a cling. "Don't leave me." He whispered. 

Duff was shocked by the sudden hug, but he welcomed it immensely. He wrapped his arms around Slash's waist and pulled him tight, unwilling to let go, now, that they were together. "I'm sorry for leaving you." Duff whispered against the thick head of hair that was tickling against his skin 

"Oh, shut up." Slash was smiling again, _thank god._ "I'm sorry for being weird and writing about you." He raised his hands and pressed them against the sides of Duff's face. 

"Well, I'm glad you did." Duff was hesitant at first, but he leaned down, awkward and wanting at the same time, and Slash leaned up, eager and relieved, and they kissed. 

Duff just wanted to let everybody know - it was the best kiss he'd ever had. 

And he knew that it wouldn't be his last. 


End file.
